I'd Rather Pretend
by snappleducated
Summary: There's something to be said about inevitability though, and sometimes it feels like defeat but sometimes it feels like finding the only place you're supposed to be. — Sasayan/Natsume
1. The 50-50-90 Rule

**ENTITLED**: I'd Rather Pretend  
**FANDOM**: Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun  
**SETTING**: What chapter are we on? 35? Post chapter-35.  
**DISCLAIMER**: Shut up.  
**NOTES**: I'd say more about these two but since all my feelings can be summarized through screaming incoherency, I figured I'd hold off.  
**LENGTH**: 1/?  
**SUMMARY**: There's something to be said about inevitability though, and sometimes it feels like defeat but sometimes it feels like finding the only place you're supposed to be. — Sasayan, Natsume

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE; The 50-50-90 Rule**

_"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." _

― Elbert Hubbard

* * *

In the summer before their senior year, he feeds her oranges pulled cold from the refrigerator. They're sharp and delicious in a way she always forgets, and entirely wrong for the season.

"Don't you have any watermelon?"

"Where would I put it?" Sasayan points out. It's true. Natsume can't remember when she'd last been in an apartment so small. It's clean, and neat in a cluttered sort of way. It's the first time she's been in his home. He'd always dropped her off first. The bike is paused outside, waiting for them.

She slides down the modest oven to sit on the floor, picking apart orange slices with her fingers and eating them one by one. He sits across from her, against the cabinets next to the fridge. He eats his orange in thirds, and pulls out another fruit shortly. She goes through three. He finishes five. Their legs almost touch. He sucks his fingers.

"My stomach hurts," Natsume decides.

"Sorry," Sasayan says, maybe more for reflex than anything else, so Natsume tries to ignore him. She stretches out her back in a long arch, all her muscles popping and unwinding as they sit in his dim kitchen. When her head checks back into place and her eyes open, he's looking at her, the long and pensive look she'd only ever gotten from him. It embarrasses her, though she doesn't know why.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says. He changes his mind, "I just like looking at you."

For a second she's petrified, then he grins, and it's got a teasing bite. Her lips press together. A rattling, defensive anger pushes into her chest.

"Quit saying things like that!"

"Quit hanging around with guys in dark rooms," he shoots back, still grinning. Natsume scoffs. The very idea of it is ludicrous. She holds out her hand to him when he stands, and he pulls her up to her feet. Their hands stick together.

"You're not a guy, you're Sasayan."

"Hey," he raises his eyebrows in mild rebuke, "You even know what you're saying?"

She realizes, suddenly, that maybe he'd been insulted. If anything, she'd meant it as a compliment. "I didn't—" she begins to explain, and then cuts herself off, embarrassed and horribly aware of it.

"Aw jeez," Sasayan says. He laughs, mostly at her, but it makes Natsume feel better anyway. It's always easy for him, she thinks. He always knew what to say. He butts his shoulder against hers and gives her hand a little tug towards the door, before letting go, and strolling away from her. "You want a ride home? I think I'm good now. Sorry about the detour."

"No," Natsume dismisses at once, "Are you sure it's okay? It's still hot. You only had one glass of water."

"Oh," Sasayan looks back over his shoulder towards, almost radiating insolence, "Yeah, I might have made that up."

Natsume tries not to gape at him. Then she marches rudely past him, back down the three flights of stairs, and into the hot July air that awaited her just outside. She can't help listening to him coming down the stairs just behind her, the pattern of his feet skipping over steps.

"Natsume, you mad?"

"Yes."

"I don't think you are," he decides. He steadies the bike for her while she climbs on the back, then swings his leg over and kicks off. "Does your stomach still hurt?"

"No," she grumbles, refusing to feel touched. She thinks about him for the rest of the ride, considering all his careful attentions, his obvious wanting in contrast to his refusal to ask. Something like guilt itches at her. The aftertaste of oranges burns within her mouth. She wonders if it would be terribly selfish of her to ask him if he was frustrated, angry with her. She rehearses the words, and resolves not to ask him.

"Sasayan?"

"Yeah?" he prompts, a little breathless.

"Do you get mad at me?" She hates herself.

"I guess about once every three days," he decides. They begin to coast slowly down the hill towards her house. His feet drag along the ground. They stop.

"I don't get mad _about_ you," he says, craning his neck to look back at her. "Don't be dumb."

Her shoulders loosen. Her self-loathing is lost in the flood of relief. She hops off the bike, and looks back at him, leaning forward with his arms folded over the handlebars. She tries to look cool and unmoved but ends up smiling, and smiling brilliantly. "I get mad at you too. Thanks for the oranges."

"Natsume," he says cheerfully, "You've got orange between your teeth."

Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, and she's so hot in the face that her eyes actually tear up a little, "_Why didn't you tell me_?!" she cries after him, as he's already started rolling away.

"I thought it was cute," he calls back, without a trace of embarrassment, only a hint of that defiant confidence slipping back into his tone. He adds, "See you tomorrow," in that same cast-off way. She can't think of anything to say to that, so merely stands with her hands held tight against his sides, watching as he moved away from her. He doesn't look back.

* * *

He does show up the next day, just like he'd said, but she's ready for him and on the computer. "I'm writing Mitty an email," she explains.

"Oh, okay," Sasayan says, "You want me to come back?"

"No," she says, with every intention of pushing him away, sending him off. Instead, she accidentally adds, "You can come in if you want. It shouldn't take too long."

What is she _doing_?

"Okay," he says, and begins to slide off his shoes. Her mother would approve. If her mother were home. No one in her family has ever met Sasayan, they only know him as the boy who drops her off from school, or walks her home at night. She realizes—she knows now—he doesn't live that close. It occurs to her to think, what must they think?

"How old are you in this picture?" Sasayan asks, and Natsume shrieks, and then begins shoving him towards her room where she can keep an eye on him. Once they're actually there, she starts to wonder if maybe she'd misjudged things, if maybe he'd had a point about hanging around with boys in dark places.

Sasayan immediately flops backwards onto her bed. He makes a face. "It's too squishy!"

"Shut up!" Natsume yelps, "Don't just invade a girl's bed and start criticizing it!"

She ignores him firmly after this, sits rigidly at her desk, and focuses all of her attention on appearing to compose an email. She can hear Sasayan moving around behind her, but refuses to check and see what he's doing. It's probably one of the worst letters she's ever written. She skims it halfway through and concludes that she has no idea what's going on.

"Hey, Natsume," Sasayan whines. It's obvious from his tone that he's getting bored of her ignoring him, "You want to see a movie today?"

"At the shopping center?"

"Sure. You want to look around?"

"I don't have any money," she mutters, "I'll just be miserable."

"I'll buy you something," he offers calmly. Natsume glows happily for a moment, before reality sinks in. She spins her chair around. He's lying on his back, walking his feet up her wall. Indignant, she strides across the room and bends over him, so that the ends of her long hair dangle into his face. Sasayan puckers his lips, and blows to make them sway.

"Is this a date?" she asks, in her sternest voice.

"It's a movie."

"_Is it_?"

Sasayan scowls. It makes her feel cramped and awful, and she realizes again that she's gotten it wrong, she's the dumb one who upsets the guy who can get along with anyone. It's been like this all summer, when he's not playing baseball and she's not online. She'd thought it would be weird, everyone else travelling and the two of them stuck at home, alone together. She wants to apologize but wants even more for him to do it first.

"It's not like I'm going to _trick_ you into something," Sasayan says, a little grumpily. Natsume sinks her hands into the mattress on either side of his head. She wants to tell him, _of course she knows that_. He's not just some guy, he's Sasayan, and he's something close to her best friend. She doesn't want to fight but she's felt it building all summer, the next big blow-out, and she doesn't know why.

"I want to go," she blurts out, "I want to go, with you, if that's okay. It doesn't matter what it is. You don't have to buy me anything, let's just go and hang out." She's already blushing, but because it feels right, she adds in, "I like being with you more than being by myself, anyway."

Sasayan just stares at her, his mouth a little open. He moves, and she thinks it's to grab her hand but he seems to change his mind. Instead, he pulls her pillow over his face and says, "_Jeez_, Natsume."

"What?" she demands, but she's so embarrassed she can't quite pretend she doesn't know _what_, anymore. Sasayan makes a strangled, exasperated little noise, and takes her to the movies.

* * *

They settle on a drama, because neither of them is sure if it's about war or romance. It turns out to be romance. Natsume bawls her way through the movie, and Sasayan eats all her popcorn. At one point he makes fun of her, but he also quietly leaves to get her some tissues. While he's gone, she watches the people in the row in front of her. They're a couple, that's obvious by the way they're sitting, him with his arm around her shoulders like it was the easiest thing in the world. She's a dainty little thing, even smaller than Natsume, and fits comfortably under her date's arm. Natsume considers Sasayan, when he comes back and sits down next to her, guessing his mouth was about level with her eyes.

He was way too short. It would never work. Natsume dabs at her eyes, and decides to never tell him about this moment. In the next instant he reaches over, and rubs his thumb carefully underneath her eye. She isn't afraid. It feels right for him to do this.

"All dried up?"

"I'm okay," she confirms, and he sits back obligingly, but before he makes it all the way, she grabs his retreating hand. "I'm a little sad."

"Too bad it wasn't a war movie."

"You're so weird," she snaps, and then goes quiet because people around them are starting to hiss. It's a little colder in the theater than she would have liked, and his hand is warm around her own. She never quite forgets about it, and at the end of the movie she starts to kind of pull away, but it's more like a question than a denial, and he tightens his grip just enough to say no, but not so much that she couldn't keep leaving. She doesn't really know why she doesn't shake him off, only that she doesn't want to. When they walk out together she holds on a little tighter, so they won't get separated, and it scares her but at the same time it's nice to have someone so solid standing right next to her.

"You lied. This is pretty much a date," she says, before she can stop herself. Sasayan casts her a suspicious, squinty look.

"Stop talking about it," he orders, "If you start talking about it you'll freak yourself out and make me take you home, and I'm hungry." She wants to point out that he just ate an entire bag of popcorn, but doesn't, because _she's_ hungry, and it's completely unfair of him to be making these sorts of arguments when they're standing in front of a pizza place and it smells _so good_.

Wordlessly, she pulls him inside.

"Thanks, Natsume."

"You're horribly manipulative," she growls, and believes every word.

"Yeah, I know," he concedes, with an abashed smile. She wants to rub his face in this acknowledgement of his own flaws, and make him admit to everything she has always suspected; that he might be a genuinely nice guy but nobody goes around expecting _nothing_. She wants to say it, but doesn't, because then he'd probably point out that she did a pretty good job of expecting _everything_.

While they're waiting she glances over at him, again, now that they're standing up. It's a little strange to be with a guy whose face is naturally so close to hers. It feels friendlier, somehow more intimate than having to look up all the time. He's almost a head shorter than their waiter, and somehow, realizing this sends a rush of fondness through her chest. She wonders if it's ever been a problem for him, if maybe he secretly wanted to play basketball. The thought makes her sad.

"I like that you're short."

"You're kinda short too," he points out. Natsume feels cheated out of her moment of profound acceptance. What had begun as an off-hand comment evolves into something new.

"How tall was your ex-girlfriend?"

"I don't know. It was in middle school, she might be taller now. I guess she was average."

"Was she taller than you?"

"No," Sasayan says flatly, in a way that is trying very hard not to be defensive. Natsume knows instinctively that they had been the same height, too close to call.

"Would you be mad if I wore heels?"

"You wear heels _all the time_."

"_High_ heels." She dabs at her pizza with a paper napkin. Sasayan watches her work for a moment, and then covers his mouth with his hand. She has the feeling he's laughing at her again. "You can cut off up to eighty calories, doing this!" she yelps at him. Sasayan dumps several napkins over his pizza, and she kicks him under the table. When they walk out of the restaurant, he reaches for her hand again, and as he takes it, she reminds herself that he _does_ care about her, that she isn't just some girl to him, she's his _friend_.

He hums a little as they walk along and she peers through the stores. It's a nice sound. He's a nice boy. She has no idea what he wants from her. The question recycles itself through her head for the rest of the evening, but it isn't until the train ride home that she brings herself to ask, "Is it okay, us being friends like this?"

"Sure, it's fine for now," he says, and her insides knot up, because he's said this before to her, a year ago, and it had been fine then but how long could she ask for it to keep on being enough?

Natsume stared out the window, into the formless dark.

"I think you're worrying too much."

"How can it be too much!?" she bursts, and then flushes when those sitting near them turn to stare. She almost bolts once they've reached their stop, and seriously considers walking home alone, rather than riding on the back of his bike like always. But Sasayan knows her too well, and catches up. He coasts leisurely at her side down the edge of deserted, dark road.

"You leaving me?"

She stops. "No," she sighs, and doesn't know what to do. Her eyes feel hot and wet, and she has to look quickly at the ground so he won't see, but she knows that, of course, he already had. Sasayan studies her for a moment, and then climbs off his bike. He puts his hands in his pockets.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Natsume says, furiously, "No, I'm the one who always messes things up."

"I don't see what's messed up," he says, in a carefully even voice, and she wants to explode at him, even though he doesn't deserve it.

"Because! Because I shouldn't have held your hand! I know you like me and I—I don't even know if I want you to, but I know that you're my friend and I—I shouldn't just do things so irresponsibly." Her voice doesn't catch, or shake, for which she's grateful, but her eyes are still definitely wet and she wishes—she wishes Sasayan would take his hands out of his pockets and wrap his arms around her so she could hide herself there, but then, also, she can't think of anything more dangerous.

"You're really weird, Natsume," Sasayan says at last, "If you want to hold my hand, go for it. If you want to be near me, that's fine. It's _more_ than fine. You can use me however you want, just so long as it's you."

She looks up just in time to catch the edge of his blush as he glances away, and that isn't fair, she wants to look at him, she _has_ to look at him to be sure that he means it, and she's determined enough to step forward and put her hands on either side of his face and pull him around to face her and then somehow their mouths are perfectly aligned.

Kissing is strange. She's not sure, at first, if she likes it. There's the feeling of his lips against hers, of course, still at first but then there's the hint of a shudder, and he kisses her back. She can feel the heat from his face against her own, and his hair is softer than she had thought it would be. When he puts his arms around her she peeks her eyes open a little, and sees that he's kissing her with his eyes closed. More than anything, it's the sweetness of his eyelashes that makes her smile, and decide that she likes kissing, she likes being this close, and maybe she likes him too.

Sasayan doesn't open his eyes after they break apart, and he doesn't let go of her either. His forehead presses against hers. "Please don't do that thing where you run off and hide for a week."

Natsume considers this in light of her recent actions. She is instantly horrified, "I have to! How am I supposed to hang out with you now?! How can I be normal?!"

"We could have a new normal," Sasayan suggests, the picture of innocence. Natsume begins to protest and he kisses her again, demanding this time, and she likes it even better. "You have to," he continues afterwards, a little breathless, "I still have like twenty oranges."

She begins to reply and is interrupted by a crash, as a stray cat knocks over some unfortunate soul's potted plant. They almost fly apart, and stand awkwardly for a moment, hearts racing, before silently climbing on the bike, and fleeing. As the ride goes on, some of Natsume's kissing euphoria begins to wear off, and doubts once again begin to tear at her.

She spends the rest of the ride watching the way his shoulders shift, and making herself ready for his disappointment.

When he drops her off, she hangs onto his shirt for a moment before climbing down, and says, "I don't know what you want me to do. I don't really know either. I don't think I can be—I can't be your girlfriend."

"You're incredibly frustrating," Sasayan sighs, "Seriously."

"I'm sorry," Natsume mumbles.

"Don't be sorry," Sasayan laughs, "_You kissed me_."

She almost stutters, "Don't talk about it!"

"I'm obviously going to talk about it!" he snaps back, "Tonight was a great victory!"

"You aren't winning anything!" Natsume roars. A few lights flick on in the house. They both wince, and Sasayan pushes off, but slowly, and the look he gives her is heavier than she's used to, more confident.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"No."

"You touched my butt when we were kissing."

Natsume sprints after him, with the full intention of pushing him off his bike, and pummeling the memory out of him, "I did not! Stop talking about it!"

He laughs, and easily outpaces her. When he turns the corner he yells, "Bye, Asako,"and Natsume stops dead, embarrassed and horrified and pleased. She stands still for a moment, trying to calm down, and unable to call back to him. It isn't the first time she's forgotten that he has a real name. It seems too serious when she thinks about it, too old and too dangerous. She remembers the look he'd given her as she climbs into bed, and spends hours making herself anxious over it. But it's _Sasayan_, she tells herself again and again, it's _Sasayan_, and she can't say no to him because he has never asked her for anything, only offered. It's _Sasayan_, and he would like her even if she were only plain looking. She suspects that he'd like her no matter what, though she doesn't understand why.

A very small part of her hopes he thinks she's pretty.

"Souhei," she whispers, and pulls the blankets over her head.

* * *

**Unwelcome Romantic Advice:** I'm pretty tall for a girl, about 168 cm (5'7), and for some reason I always dated guys who were like, 190 cm (6'3). _But_, this summer, I discovered that people who are like, 7 cm (3 inches) taller than you are totally superior. No more running starts every time you want to kiss! I am dead serious. Shorties are the way to go. Shorties who are really good jumpers are even better, because then they can still get stuff off shelves for you.


	2. Destroyed But Not Defeated

**ENTITLED**: I'd Rather Pretend  
**FANDOM**: Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun  
**SETTING**: post-chapter one (I am the promised light of illumination).  
**DISCLAIMER**: Nothing has changed.  
**NOTE**: I really need to make an outline for this thing. Otherwise it will stretch into an obsession the likes of which you have never seen. I know myself. I will not be able to stop. I promise, in real life, I am much worse.  
**NOTE2**: Also, I was really touched and surprised by all the thoughtful feedback I received for the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who took the time to comment! You are all so wonderful and classy. It was a real treat.  
**LENGTH**: 2/9  
**UPDATED**: 12/23/12

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO; Destroyed But Not Defeated**

_"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up."_

— "The Sandman", Neil Gaiman

* * *

The next morning, Natsume wakes up, and feels warm down to her toes. A sweet, drifty feeling, her thoughts float through her drowsiness, until she remembers. For a second, the feeling persists.

And then she remembers that everything comes with baggage.

"Crap!" Natsume yelps, and jolts upright.

_He'll probably not want to talk about it either_, she reasons, as she brushes her teeth.

_It was just a kiss! He'll just tease me a little and then everything will be normal again_, she assures herself, as she gets dressed.

_What if he shows up with flowers and chocolate or something!_ she suddenly thinks, her mouth full of toast. She rushes to the window and peers out suspiciously. There are no flowers or chocolates.

_What if he's angry that I don't want to be his girlfriend? What if he thinks I'm a tease! _she frets, returning to the kitchen.

_I can't let that happen. I have to make sure he doesn't get any ideas,_ she decides, iron in hand and her hair steaming slightly.

_I should probably tell him that we both need a little space to cool down and figure things out_, she decides, applying the final touches to her make-up. Natsume studies her eyelashes for clumps, and then pulls back, satisfied. She pulls out her phone, braces herself, and has just entered his number when her phone buzzes. She squawks and flounders and checks caller I.D. Of course it's from him.

_Hey, I'm bored. You want to go to the batting cages? I hear Haru's back. I can give you a lift._

She stares at the cheerful little message, and suspiciously considers all the ways he's cornered her.

"Crap!" Natsume shrieks, as it is quickly becoming her word of the morning. She hurls her phone at the couch cushions and stomps a full circuit around the house.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Sasayan is outside her house, and waving cheerfully through the window. Natsume crouches over her shoes, lacing them up, and imagines a million horrible hypothetical scenarios. She opens the door, and Sasayan kisses her. She gets on the bike, and Sasayan kisses her. She trips and falls on him, and Sasayan kisses her. There is a definite theme here.

Natsume edges outside with her hands pressed over her mouth.

"What're you doing?" Sasayan asks, his eyebrows all the way up, "Are you sick? Is something wrong with your mouth?" he thinks about this for a second and then adds, "I didn't…_bruise_ you or anything, did I?"

Natsume's hands shoot down to clench at her sides, "Obviously not!" she shouts, "And I told you! We're not talking about it ever again."

"Okay, okay," Sasayan concedes as he rolls his eyes. "No talking about it."

Somewhat appeased, Natsume hops on the back of his bike. Her attention never wavers. She is certain he is poised to strike. She isn't wrong.

"Natsume?"

"What."

"You know your shoes don't match, right?" Sasayan asks cheerfully, as he pushes them off and starts down the street. Natsume considers her feet. It's true. One of her shoes is a lace-up converse. The other is a three-inch wedge.

"I-It's all the rage!"

"Oh, my bad."

She abandons pride, and clutches at his shirt, "Take me back!"

He laughs at her. It's a very fond, indulgent sort of laugh. She isn't sure that she likes it.

* * *

Visiting Haru is a mistake. But it's worth it to see him tied up like a criminal, bound hand and feet to the bike rack outside the batting cages.

"Shizuku!" he wails.

"Stop it," Micchan says blankly from inside. His voice doesn't carry, but Natsume didn't think he seemed likely to go to the trouble of raising it.

"Shizuku's out of town," Sasayan says calmingly. Haru looks at the other boy through a veil of sullen tears.

"I _know_ that, I just want to lie in her bed until she comes back, _obviously_!"

"No," Micchan's faint voice objects. Sasayan looks towards Haru pityingly.

"She's gonna be back in a few days, you know?"

"I don't see what the problem is!" Haru snaps, apparently oblivious to the attempted comfort extended to him, "It's not like her dad has the stones to call the police!"

Natsume is inspired by this flaming display of young male passion.

"Good for you," she decides, and crouches down by Haru's side, "Don't give up!"

"As if I would!" Haru snorts. Natsume pats his shoulder. Sasayan rolls his eyes, and abandons them for a couple rounds with the robot. It nags at her, how easily he seemed to be able to leave them. She forgets, sometimes, that Sasayan wasn't like her. He acted too naturally for her to always remember that he was popular enough to fill up the empty spaces failures had left behind.

"What's up?" Haru barks, and Natsume squeaks.

"N-Nothing!"

He squints at her. Natsume hums.

"Did you guys do it?"

"WHAT?"

"Good for you," Haru mutters, looking a bit envious even as his dark eyes gleamed, "Shizuku still won't—"

"STOP TALKING."

"—and I don't what the big deal is, _everyone_ has them—"

Natsume screams wordlessly, and smashes her hands tightly over her ears. Haru examines the hot blush spread across her face.

"Oh," he concludes with stunningly obvious disappointment, "You're still a virgin."

Natsume punches him as hard as she can, and then walks inside before Haru has time to realize how much it had hurt her hand.

Inside, Sasayan swings, hits. The distance between them seems impossible, insurmountable. She hangs behind the desk with Mi-chan, choosing past awkwardness over the present. She slides down the wall, and sits with her arms wrapped protectively around her knees.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," Natsume mumbles into her thighs. Mi-chan drags down his cigarette. It's a wonder that he can smoke so much, she thinks. It must have cost him a fortune.

"Don't worry about it too much," Mi-chan says cryptically. Natsume sputters.

"I'm _not_!"

But she is.

And as the day goes on, she realizes, he hangs around her more than before. Or maybe she'd never noticed. But that seems impossible. He's always the one who looks over his shoulder to make sure she's not lagging behind.

It's suffocating and to make it worse, it's a disgusting kind of hot outside, the kind where even the air sweats, and by noon she refuses to raise her arms above her head and Sasayan has to walk his bike along the side of the road, wiping his face on the bottom of his shirt. She notices, as he does this, that his waist is sharp and narrow, and that the skin of his back is the lightest shade of brown.

Natsume looks down.

"I think I'm dying," he says, "Sorry for making you walk. Good thing you changed your shoes, I guess."

Natsume hums uncomfortably. Her stomach aches more sharply as he speaks, as it has been all day.

They stop to rest at a nearby river. Sasayan takes off his shoes and socks, and wades out into the water, wriggling his shoulders and yelping, "Oh my _god_, that's cold!"

Natsume plops down on the bank, and lowers her face behind her knees. She feels miserable. Her eyes haze out and she slumps to rest on her back, looking up through the tangle of her eyelashes into the savagely blue summer sky.

She would give anything for a breeze, right now. A truck rumbles past on the bridge above them, and she can hear Sasayan sloshing back to land. She closes her eyes quickly, and hopes for something she cannot explain or define or in anyway put words to.

He puts his hands against her neck. They're wet, and so cold that she screams. Natsume's eyes snap open, and she catches the beginning of his grin.

"Gotcha."

"You're HORRIBLE!"

Sasayan reels backwards, hunching over his stomach and laughing, Natsume scrambles to her feet and quivers, shivers of cold still shaking their way out of her spine. She goes after him, her troubles forgotten, focused only on her blind, furious need for revenge.

She slaps his chest and arms several times, and this makes him laugh harder. She kicks and shoves and yells at him until he wraps his arms around her and buries his face into the juncture of neck and shoulder, and goes on laughing breathlessly. Her arms are pinned to her sides and his breath is very hot against her skin, and she can smell nothing but his hair.

There is a moment where he stops laughing, and raises his head to look at her.

He's going to kiss her.

Oh no.

She goes still, staring back at him, her heart racing and anxious and she does not know how to deal with this, at all, and she doesn't even want to try, but there is absolutely nowhere left to run. She hadn't realized that he thought he could just kiss her when he wanted to, like it was supposed to be something easy and natural. The thought makes her sick. She wonders if everything that has happened this morning has lead up to this point. She wonders if everything that has ever happened between them was just so that he could kiss her when he wanted to. The thought makes her sick.

His eyes close, and Natsume does the only thing she can think of. She lurches to the side, and topples them both into the river.

He half lets go of her as they fall, and her elbow bangs pretty hard against on of the rocks on the bottom, but the main thing she's aware of is the face full of bone-numbing river water in her face, and then Sasayan jerks her back upright.

They both stare at one another, sprawled out and sopping wet. A small waterfall drips from Sasayan's left ear, and this might be the first time she's seen him with flat hair.

"Well, that was a _fabulous_ idea," he notes. Natsume jerks to her feet and kicks a wave into his face. He only just has time to close his eyes.

Hissing, she sloshes back to the bank, dragging up the straps of one of her tank tops. Her whole outfit is now one step away from see-through. Her bra is hot pink and undeniably viewable. She seizes the hem of her shirt and does her best to wring it out.

They spend the next several hours drying by the riverside. He teaches her how to whistle on a blade of grass, and she beats him at skipping rocks. When the sun starts going down, he invites her to his home for more oranges, and she doesn't think to decline.

* * *

Sasayan's cat is a little bitch.

"I hate you," Natsume whispers. The cat looks at her. It's a look that speaks murder.

"Wow, Muffin likes you!" Sasayan chirps when he comes back into the sitting room. Natsume and the cat do not break eye contact.

Natsume speaks for both of them, "No." After a minute, she tells the cat, "Your name is stupid."

Muffin narrows her eyes. She's a tough, mean old thing, with chewed up ears and one dead-white eye. Sasayan picks her up, and she butts her head forcefully against the underside of his chin. He coos. "I've had her since I was a kid! She used to live on the street, you know? She's almost twenty-three now. They said she'd die seven years ago, but she didn't."

"Hm," Natsume says, disappointed. The cat looks at her proudly.

"She always hides when we have company," Sasayan continues, circling the couch. He deposits Muffin between Natsume and himself, and then happily flops down. "I guess you made her curious."

Natsume and the cat resume staring evilly at each other.

"You wanna meet my mom?" Sasayan asks suddenly, and Natsume jerks back, flies to the far arm of the couch and stares at him with huge, horrified eyes.

"What?!"

"Well," Sasayan shrugs, "I mean. I thought. I don't really know, honestly, I just figured, maybe you'd want to?"

Natsume lips, knees, and hands press together.

"You don't have to freak out," Sasayan says, now with an edge of exasperation, "I mean, you come over to my house all the time. It's kind of weird that you don't know her."

She has no idea what to say. Her thoughts tumble over one another, each one more hostile than the last. She can only look away from him, silent in her bristling reluctance.

After a very long silence, she knows he looks away too. "You know," he begins carefully, "I don't like this. I didn't want this to happen. It makes me feel like a creep when you're like this, like you think I'd actually make you do something you don't want to. You know I wouldn't, right?"

"I don't know if I wanted to kiss you but that still happened," Natsume says, before she can stop herself.

It detonates between them, this silent bomb. She can't decide if she's relieved for having said it, or miserable. Regret is a tricky thing, especially when Sasayan goes still all over. She ducks her head and peers through the curtain of her hair, watching. She wonders why she always has to bring out the very worst in him.

The cat jumps off of Sasayan's lap, and trots briskly out of the room.

"Then why _did_ you?" he says at last, his voice flat, "Did you feel sorry for me? Did you think you had to give me something or I'd wander off? Did you just get swept up in the moment or did you—did you actually think you wanted me for a second, but then when you kissed me, decided that you _didn't_?"

It's too horrible. Natsume lurches to her feet with the full intention of bolting, and he follows her, gripping her wrist and snapping, "You _cannot_ just run away from me."

"Let go!"

He does. She can't move, anyway. "You aren't being fair," he says finally.

"I can't do this," she says. It's panic, she finally realizes. Panic, which has been building steadily in her ugliness of her chest ever since the moment that she had kissed him. Panic, because of course she had known on some basic level that she would ruin everything. Panic; because there was no going back from what she had done, and no going forward either. There was nothing left to do. She looks at the floor. She has to do this. It's better, in the long run. It's the right thing.

"We don't have to—"

"I don't want to see you anymore!" Natsume cries, and wrings the handles of her purse yet more tightly, eyes glued to the ground. She can't stand to look up at his face, she can't bear to even imagine what his expression must be right now, how thoroughly she must have disappointed him. Her insides curl up into knots and her mouth goes dry and without warning she begins to sob. "Never again!" she forces out, and drops her purse. The cosmetics she'd been keeping in her bag clatter as they smash to the ground, but she doesn't care, she can't care about anything right now, she can only hide her face with her hands and hope that he walks away soon, and that he doesn't feel even half as bad as she does now.

She can hear him step closer, but before she can shrink away, he's already tugging at her hands. She refuses to move, every muscle pulling in, forcing herself down into the smallest point she can manage. Then she feels his mouth on her knuckles, kissing them one by one, with exquisite gentleness. He pulls her down to the floor and wraps himself around her, hugging her with his legs and his arms. She trembles. Her hands come down, and she hides herself in his collar. Before she can stop herself, her hands clutch at the front of his shirt. He strokes her hair.

"What's wrong?"

She can't bring herself to answer. She's entirely too angry that this has happened, that she cried and leaned on him for support—even in the moment when she had meant to push him away. Pathetic.

After a while he asks, "How could you say that to me?"

She swallows.

"Do you even realize what you're doing? Do you really think I could stand to have you walk out of my life? If you're unhappy with how things are right now—if you're uncomfortable or, or scared, or—just _tell_ me, Natsume! Don't just dump it all and act like I'm nothing!"

She doesn't move, because breathing through his shirt is calming her down and she needs that right now, but she does manage to snap back, "Of course you aren't! I only said it because ever since—ever since we kissed, I just, I started to feel so _worthless_!"

Sasayan doesn't say anything back to that for a moment, but she can feel him getting tensed up and brittle. He repeats, "Kissing me made you feel worthless?"

"No!" Natsume throws herself away from him, holding him at arm's length. She rubs ineffectively at her face, her leaking nose, "No, not that! After that! After you started treating me like—like I was your _property_, or something!"

He looks bewildered. Frustrated. She wonders how long it will take until he snaps at her. "My _property_? What are you talking about?"

"I'm not your girlfriend!" Natsume cries, a new heat spreading across her face as she says it. But, so what? So _what_?

"I know that!" Sasayan says defensively. He doesn't blush like she had. "I _know_! I don't understand why you're getting so angry!"

She isn't sure how to tell him, to list off the things that had made her so uneasy when she'd thought they'd made her happy. How to tell him—_you let me push you in a river and taught me to whistle on grass and I never asked for any of it._

"Just—the way you've been acting. It's like, it's like we're a couple and I _told_ you, I don't want that yet! I know that you like me but I don't know how I feel about you at all! I _thought_ we were friends. I _thought_ nothing would change, but now I feel like—I feel like I _have_ to like you back, and I don't know! I don't know if I _want_ to because lately, I feel like I don't know you at all! I feel like I went from your best friend to just—just some girl. Like I'm not Natsume, anymore, I'm just _The Girlfriend_!" Natsume breaks off her babbling to suck down an angry lungful of air, and has every intention of continuing with her rant, but her gasp turns into a sob and then it's all she can do to not dissolve in front of him. And then she's mad. _He_ did this to her, _he_ was the one who pushed her into the corner and expected things and she just didn't—

"You have _no idea_ what it feels like!" Natsume hiccups, and drags her shirt collar up over her face to wipe away the wetness, and to hide from him, "You have no idea how it feels to—to just be a body. That's how I feel. That's how boys have always made me feel, and it's how you made me feel and I _can't stand it._"

"Are you _kidding_ me?!" Sasayan snaps, and wrenches her shirt down to grip her by the sides of her face, and he looks her dead in the eye. It's the first time she's ever seen him look so angry, or so hurt. "Just a body?" he repeats, "Are you serious? When have I _ever_ treated you that way?_ Never_! I have never treated you that way because I have never _thought_ of you that way! Do you know how_ I_ feel when I realize that you think I'm some sort of—do you know how much of a _failure_ I feel like when I realize that you don't believe I _really love you_?"

Natsume's heart stops.

They stare at each other for several breathless, long seconds. She feels dizzy. It doesn't feel like a romantic moment, but nor does it bite at her like so many other confessions she has received. This one hangs between them, imperfect and earnest and sad. Neither of them looks away. Natsume realizes, she doesn't think she's ever heard anything so true.

"I'm sorry," she says, in a small voice. Her ears are still ringing, and her heart is beating so fast she actually feels a little queasy. Sasayan looks at her, his face blank, and she realizes suddenly, horribly, that he's already locking himself away.

"No, I'm sorry," he says, and even manages an apologetic little smile, "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean to—look, just forget about it, please? I don't want you to worry about it. Friends?"

They're so close together, but Natsume barely recognizes him. She can find the familiar pattern of his summer-freckles, and the sharp angle of his eyes remains the same. But something important has slipped away while she wasn't looking, and now all she is left with is a familiar looking boy who was too nice to do anything but make her feel better.

"I'm sorry," she says again, helplessly, and scrambles to her feet. She scoops up her purse and runs out of his apartment and into the street, all the while asking herself, _how could I be so stupid?_

For once, he doesn't follow her. Without him, it takes a very long time to get home, even though she's running.

_How could I be so stupid? _

She stops. She's gasping more than she should be, her heart drumming too fast, and abruptly she swings around and kicks at a light pole. Her foot flares up with pain, and she almost screams. How good it must feel, to just scream.

Natsume's hands choke the straps of her bag, and she walks home alone. Her family has already fallen asleep by the time she arrives, and she heads straight for her room. Her throat feels swollen. She stuffs her face into a pillow and bends over it, and she screams for as long as she can.

"You are so _stupid_!" she shrieks at herself, "You are the biggest, stupidest, most awful girl ever! All this time it was never _their_ fault! It was _yours!_ _You_ are the one who ruins everything, and you are the one who makes everyone miserable, and how could you do that to him, _how could you how could you how could you_?!"

She pulls her face away. The pillow is wet and hot. She turns it over, and climbs into bed with all her make-up left on, and all the clothes she'd worn that day. She lies awake trembling, staring across the dark room, and wishing more than anything that Sasayan was there with her, so that no one but him would have to know how ugly she was when she cried.

* * *

**CLOSING NOTE:** Don't be mad. We'll get up to an M rating eventually.


	3. The Act of Leaving

**ENTITLED**: I'd Rather Pretend  
**FANDOM**: Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun  
**DISCLAIMER**: re: Chapter 2, Chapter 1  
**NOTE**: Apologies on the wait this time. I went back and reworked a lot of stuff from chapter two because it was AWFUL, and I blame finals. Anyway, there's about seven hundred words of new content around the middle section, if you're interested. Actually, just go read it. Right now. Go.  
**GOOD NEWS**: I made an outline! Look forward to chapter seven.  
**LENGTH**: 3/9

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE; The Act of Leaving **

"_It is in the admission of ignorance and the admission of uncertainty that there is a hope for the continuous motion of human beings in some direction that doesn't get confined, permanently blocked, as it has so many times before in various periods in the history of man."_

— Richard P. Feynman

* * *

When she wakes up, all she can think about is rolling over and going back to bed. The world feels unreal, a strange thing that happened outside of her curtains, an occasional white ribbon of light.

Her mother bangs on the door. Natsume sticks her head under her pillow.

"Asako, at least take a bath or something!"

"You don't understand!" Natsume yells back, indignant as ever that her mother refused to unconditionally take her side.

"When he gets back from his trip, I'm telling your father about this!"

"Fine! At least _he_ loves me!" Natsume retaliates. She can hear her mother's exasperated huff of a sigh, and then the eventual retreat. Just as well, because she has absolutely zero intention of leaving her room, ever. Not until school started, anyway. And why would she? It was pretty obvious that any social attempts made outside of the Internet were destined for failure and awfulness and—

She smashes her pillow more tightly over her face, and growls. _Enough of that_.

But before her resolve can really lock into place, a little voice reminds her that it's been three days, and Sasayan hasn't come knocking. He hadn't even texted. Natsume rolls over and relays all these grievances into the patient live chat, her stomach churning.

_That sounds tough, Nat-san_, says one of the girls on the chat, replying to the torrent of information Natsume had just dumped on her Internet friends, _But don't take it too hard. Boys are stupid anyway_.

Natsume begins to agree, then draws up short. She frowns at the screen, irritated. Wasn't that just too easy, to dismiss them like that? She hadn't ever felt that being a girl granted her special powers of perception, a deeper sense for the nuances of human relationships. Frankly, she hadn't ever felt like she had _any_ level of perception. With this in mind, Natsume types, punching the keys down with sharp, jabbing fingers, _It wasn't his fault. I'm the one who ruined everything_. _He isn't stupid_.

The response is quick; _I don't mean stupid, exactly. I'm sure he's very smart. I mean he didn't understand your feelings. Boys are like that, they always just do whatever they want and ignore whatever the other person feels._

For a second, Natsume tries to imagine Sasayan acting the way her friend had described, and the thought is enough to make her flush with anger. Hastily, she types; _You're wrong. He isn't anything like that. He isn't just "a boy", and if anything, the person who did all of that was me_.

She shuts her laptop, and sits up in bed, aware for the first time of how grimy her pajamas feel, how thick and itchy her hair seem to be. For a moment, she can only sit and stare dazedly across the room, towards the empty calendar on her wall. She realizes the date.

_Mitty_.

Shizuku should be getting back in town today. Or—no, wait! She'd been home since yesterday! Natsume leaps to her feet, and then forgets what she was about to do. She looks around the room anxiously, hoping for some inspiration to jar her back into activity—looking for something to finally bounce the lethargy she'd been dragging around —and then her eyes graze one of the many pairs of discarded heels strewn across her room, and she remembers. _Of course_. She's getting up.

Goal in mind, Natsume snatches up a haphazard armful of clothes with much less care than she would have normally exercised, and almost sprints to the shower. Mitty would know what to do. She was smart like that. She would know how to make everything better. There is not an inch of doubt in Natsume's heart.

* * *

Natsume arrives at Shizuku's house with the full expectation of finding her friend meditating atop a tower of textbooks. She had, of course, forgotten to calculate Haru into the equation. When Haru opens the front door, he takes one look at her and almost immediately hunches over to whisper, "Go away, we're being romantic."

Unusually unsympathetic to his pleas, Natsume only narrows her eyes at him and asks, "Is that really true?"

"No," Shizuku answers tonelessly, from somewhere behind Haru. Natsume screams in welcome and shoves Haru out of the way so she can smash herself against Shizuku's largely unresponsive form.

"I missed you!" Natsume wails, and butts her face against Shizuku's neck. After a moment, Shizuku sort of wriggles in what Natsume takes for greeting.

"_No fair_," Haru whines from somewhere in the distance. Natsume ignores him. She only digs herself deeper into Mitty and hopes that Haru will go away for a little bit.

"You had your turn," Shizuku admonishes Haru, and the boy squawks, maybe in embarrassment, maybe in reproach. Shizuku's hand tugs at Natsume's shirt—exercising the maximum extent of movement Natsume's hug will allow. Natsume's fingers curl in. After a second, Shizuku says, "Haru. I need you to buy something at the convenience store for me."

"_Eh_?" Haru whines again, clearly reluctant to be separated from her for even a second, "Why _me_?"

"Because if you're back fast enough, I'll give you a present. And I want to give you that present. So." Shizuku lets herself stop talking. This vague promise is clearly all that Haru needs, because in the next second he's out the door and halfway down the street, and Natsume thinks he'll probably get there before he remembers that Mitty hadn't even said what she wanted him to buy.

Shizuku drags Natsume to the door to close it, and then asks, "What's wrong?"

Natsume's face comes out of her friend's shoulder, and she yelps, "How'd you know?!"

"You're getting my shirt wet, dummy," Shizuku grumbles. It's true. Natsume lets go so that she can rub at her face.

"Sorry. This just kind of happens, lately."

"So?" Shizuku crosses her arms, and waits. The sight of Shizuku's familiar, no-nonsense expression makes Natsume nearly tremble with relief. Her mouth opens, and a sudden outpouring of words and cries and confusion escapes her before she can even think about editing it. The result is something jumbled, and rambling, and disjointed, and Natsume can tell that Shizuku understands immediately, but she lets Natsume go on talking anyways. And it feels good to say it.

"So, you messed up," Shizuku says matter-of-factly once Natsume had finished. "You led him and yourself on, hurt everyone involved, and still don't understand how you feel. Or how he feels."

Natsume twists her fingers into her skirt. She shakes with swallowed protests.

"You have to talk to him," Shizuku says firmly, "If you ever want him in your life, on any level, you have to make things right. But don't say anything until you're sure. There's a limit to how many times someone can forgive something like this, you know."

A thought flares up in Natsume's mind, and she looks towards Shizuku wildly, "You don't sound surprised about this at all. You knew. How did you know?"

"This isn't especially difficult to work out," Shizuku says, a touch of exasperation leaking into her voice.

At this, Natsume focuses her every particle on becoming as pitiful as possible, and turns trembling, watery eyes upon her best, most brilliant friend. Her voice quivers when she whispers, "It's hard for _me_."

"Oh, for God's sake," Shizuku mutters, and begins pushing Natsume towards the door. "Go. Go on. Haru's going to be back soon. Just _think_ about it, Natsume. It's really not hard at _all_."

And before Natsume can wrangle a single hint out of her, Shizuku closes the door, and Natsume's shut out. For several minutes, she stands very still, and stares imploringly at the house number.

Haru rushes past her. The door opens, shuts, and then opens once more as he races back out. He yells over his shoulder at her as he passes, "Natsume, you dummy, just _follow your heart!_"

"I don't know _how_!" Natsume wails, and finally sets off down the street in the opposite direction Haru had taken.

* * *

Her heart leads Natsume to the baseball field halfway through the fourth inning. The home team is losing. She sits all the way in the back, but is still close enough to see Sasayan squint, which he only ever did when he was _really_ focused on something. She watches him adjust his hat, blow out a slow breath, and crouch. He leans so far forward on the balls of his feet; she's surprised he doesn't stumble. The batter swings, and Sasayan launches himself into the air, and everyone starts clapping. Natsume blinks, and then joins in five seconds too late.

Watching him now, she tries to imagine her life without him. She goes through her memories and plucks him out of them, one by one, and the year grows empty.

The woman at Natsume's side suddenly shouts, and Natsume snaps out of her musings in time to watch Sasayan scoop up a low ball and lob it back at the umpire. Once, he'd told her that he could never go pro. She hadn't understood—he'd been the best fieldsman on the team since they were freshmen. He'd said, "That doesn't really matter. I can't ever hit a homerun. I'm too small. My arms aren't long enough."

_He _is_ too small_, Natsume thinks, as she watches him turn and cry out something to one of his teammates. It's more obvious when he's standing next to the other boys, and she wonders why she kept on forgetting.

The next batter hits so hard, his bat shatters. Everyone in the crowd winces. Natsume remembers the time halfway through their second year when Sasayan had come into class wincing, and later he'd pulled up his shirt to show her the bruising that came with cracked ribs. He'd gotten it during practice. She'd been furious. She'd been so _angry_ with him for getting hurt, but had known even then that her rage was ridiculous. She'd forced it down until she forgot about it, and he had healed a month later.

She swallows.

Her throat feels hot, suddenly.

How could she have forgotten that? Hadn't it been so important to her, once?

On the field, Sasayan laughs.

Natsume's fingers curl up, and she tucks her chin down into her collar. Her knees blur, the longer she stares at them. His laughter stabs her. His laughter means, _I forgot about you_. _You're the only one who's hurt_. _You lost_.

Natsume squeezes her eyes closed, and tries to make herself shut up, because nothing she ever thought made a bit of sense or did anybody a lick of good. One minute she wanted him happy, and in the next instant she was angry with him for not missing her enough. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she didn't even make sense to _herself_.

He would be better off without her.

Maybe he'd already realized that.

Her head begins to pound. It's awfully hard to breath, all of a sudden. The crowd around her screams and jumps to their feet. They've won the match. Sasayan won his game. Natsume puts her hands over her ears and tells herself to shut up, shut up, _shut up_.

* * *

"Natsume?"

She jerks up. The sun has dropped and the crowd is gone and Sasayan is staring at her with a little bit of field dust on one of his cheeks. Her eyes feel scratchy, and he is looking at her with the flattest, wariest expression she has ever seen him wear.

For a moment she can't think of a single thing to say. She wants to ask him what's wrong, why's he got that face on, and then she remembers, _Oh, right, I did that._

And she means to say, "I'm sorry," because it is the right thing to say, and she is awful, and it would be better to let him go. She knows, she has always known, that she will never be as good as he is.

But she can't say it. She can't, because she was born to ruin people's lives, and maybe especially his. Maybe he is her favorite victim, because what she _does_ say is the truth. She says, "I miss you," and hates herself so much that for a minute, she actually can't see anything but spots.

She looks up at him, lip caught between her teeth, and she watches his eyes grow tired. It takes her a very long time to recognize sadness, and when she does, her stomach lurches. It looks wrong on him. It's an ugly expression for his face, all mismatched and horrible. She feels sick just seeing it.

Sasayan walks away. She stares at the back of his neck, which is heavily tanned, and clenches the muscles in her legs. She locks her knees, so she can't run after him. She puts her hands over her mouth and doesn't make a sound.

Halfway across the field, Sasayan stops, and looks back at her. He doesn't move.

She gives him as many chances as she can stand to, and then she picks herself up, and trots after him.

He hands her an orange once she's caught up, and she follows him to the river. Neither of them say a word until they're sitting in the shadow of the bridge, and she remembers that it was only days ago that she'd pushed him in the river. She can't remember why she did that.

A deep sense of unease begins to slip away from her, the longer she sits with him. It had been a feeling akin to nakedness, a sort of unbalanced vulnerability. She hadn't even noticed she'd been carrying it.

She looks at her hands. They're stained a grimy, flaxy yellow, from the fruit rinds. She rubs her fingers together, and it doesn't help. A tension builds in her with a question, and she asks even though she doesn't want to. "Were you mad at me?"

Her voice is small.

"Not really," he says after a second. She still can't look up from her fingers, and their strange, tacky glimmer.

"You didn't call me."

"You wouldn't have answered." After a second he adds, "I didn't really have anything to say."

"Are you tired of me?" she asks, and her voice pitches strangely, too high and too nervous. Her shoulders hunch up and pucker. She reflects on the ease of the silence they had shared. Maybe she should have kept it. Maybe words only confused things.

She can't stand the thought of ducking her head and cowering while he turns her away. Natsume looks up and over, and he looks right back.

"No," Sasayan says, and adds, "But you're kind of getting on my nerves."

Just like that, Natsume forgets to feel bad. "You _always_ say that!" she protests.

"Well, you're _annoying_!" Sasayan growls, and he glares at her. It doesn't frighten her, though. She can tell he's kidding a little, even if it's true, that he's making fun of himself as much as her. She glares right back.

"I'm not annoying, you're just too impatient!"

Sasayan looks deeply affronted. "I'm _very_ patient!" he protests, and she thinks that, yes, most of the time, but—

"Not with _me_!"

"_Obviously_ not with you. I care more, so of _course_ I would get more upset when something bad happens," he looks away, but not in embarrassment. She's always kind of wondered about that, how he could say things like that to her without really worrying about appearances, just operating on fact. For a second, she tries to picture him blushing. She's _sure_ he's done so before, but it's hard to remember. He always hides his face.

"I care too," she says very quietly. It's hard to get it out. It's hard, because her voice shakes, not because she's scared, but because she wants him to know this so badly, and at the same time, she doesn't.

"I know," he replies, and takes her hand. It's just a bit chalky, from the oranges or the baseball glove, she can't decide, but it's still familiar. For a minute her heart speeds up and then it settles back down as she gets used to it, again. His skin is warmer than hers.

"Do you think," she starts, stops, and makes herself try again. "Do you think, that—I don't really know if I'm being fair but I, I just, I don't want to lose you, and—"

Sasayan shoots her a look, all slanty-eyed and guarded, "I _know_ that, Natsume. I just can't figure out if you want me to be your friend, or…" he trails off. She gets it. The river rushes in her ears, louder, and louder, and with her free hand she begins pulling up grass, trying to think of someway to explain to him what she felt, and certain that she would inevitably fail. Certain, as always, that admitting what she wanted could only result in never getting it.

"I don't know," she admits. For a second his fingers tighten infinitesimally. She thinks it's because he's annoyed with her, again, but it's not, it's because he's shifted his weight and leaned towards her and then he kisses her cheek. He lingers, and then jerks away. For a _second,_ she can read him. But then he blinks.

"Good or bad?" he asks, almost fiercely. Natsume is flabbergasted. She gapes at him, truly gapes, her mouth open and everything.

"_What_?"

"When I kiss you, is that a _good or a bad thing_?" Sasayan elaborates, and she realizes that he has more freckles than he'd had three days ago, and there's still a smudge of dust on his right cheek. She stares at the dirt. It anchors her. So does the feeling of his calluses against the back of her hand. Natsume counts three. And then she realizes, he's still talking. "And I don't want you to say it's good just because you're worried about hurting my feelings or—or like, you feel like if you don't say it, I'll stop being your friend. It pisses me off when you say stuff like that. Do you really think I'm so selfish that I would cut you off for that? I'm your friend, Natsume. Unless you don't want me to be."

"Of course I want you to be," she stammers, horrified. Had she really made him feel so low?

"Then…" he trails off and stares at her, expectant. Waiting.

Natsume notices, suddenly, that the river is beautiful, the grass is gorgeous, and the hot white slice of sun nipping around the edge of the corner house is especially lovely. The world is a warm, soft orange. She looks straight at him and can see nothing at all. And then at last, she understands why she had never quite trusted him. Whenever she got angry, she shouted and stamped her feet and threw her fists into the air. When she was sad, she cried until her cheeks were chaffed and raw from being rubbed. When she was scared, she screamed.

But Sasayan never did any of those things. He'd never let her see him embarrassed, or heartbroken, or furious. She'd seen only the fewest seething flares of emotion, those that slid through when she'd really pushed him too hard, and maybe it was true after all, maybe he was a little less patient with her than with everyone else. Or maybe he'd just permitted her to see more of him than anyone else.

Hesitantly, she says, "I—you remember, you said that you liked me? I think I didn't believe you. I thought—you were too different from how I was. When I liked Mi-chan. I didn't understand. I still don't understand you. But I do believe you. I know that now."

She bites her lip, and looks down, and rips at the grass more urgently. She pats the victim stalks into a small pile. She's blushing hard again, and it seems kind of funny. It's funny in a dizzy kind of way. She feels like the hapless sweet girl, calling a boy behind the school to confess her love. But that wasn't even what she was doing, right? And anyway, hadn't he been the one to start it all?

Just as she's about to say something she realizes how tightly she's gripping his hand. She almost snatches it away, but—but instead she holds on tighter.

"It's good," she answers at last, and her words are too loud and even more forceful. Honestly, she kind of screams it. Typical. Natsume fights the impulse to bury her head into the gap between her knees, and instead makes herself go on talking. "It's good and it's always been good but I just, I ruin everything and _you know it's true_ and I didn't want to ruin this, I didn't want to ruin _us_ because I can't be good like you are, and I didn't want to ruin you and most of all _I didn't want you to ruin me_."

Sasayan stares at her with his eyes wide open, looking shocked and very boyish, and when he finally smiles at her, she can't take it anymore. She lets go of his hand and almost throws herself in the opposite direction. "D-Don't get any ideas!"

"You're impossible," he says, but sort of indulgently. And he's so calm and so satisfied and _is that really all he's going to say, come on!_ and she just can't _stand_ it anymore, so she throws herself back at him and presses him flat into the grass, hands braced against his chest, and she leans down so that their lips are perhaps a millimeter apart.

She says in her sternest, clearest voice, "I think we should go out."

A passing car honks at them. Natsume refuses to be embarrassed. Her refusal is universally ignored. But she embarrassed or not, she doesn't have to get off of him.

"_Natsume_," Sasayan says, in a really weird, breathless kind of voice—and oh _yes_, the longer she stays there the redder he gets. She holds down his arms. He wriggles a little but otherwise doesn't fight back.

"Not like a boyfriend-girlfriend thing," she says, still in her most authoritative pretend-identity. "I don't think I—I'm still a little—let's just date. At first. Then we can, um, discuss."

The next comment from passing traffic is a long blare that lasts for, surely, three seconds. Natsume braces her shoulder blades against the noise. Sasayan is beginning to look a little wild-eyed. "_Okay_," he hisses through his teeth, "Okay, great, _get off me_."

"No!" Natsume snaps. She is perhaps a little drunk off of her new power. Or supposed power. In the next second Sasayan pushes himself up, and even manages to catch her from sliding off him and toppling down the riverbank.

"You're a _crazy person_!" he hisses at her. There are bits of grass stuck in his hair and he's all fluffed up and indignant, and Natsume wants to giggle. So she does, with her hands pushed up ineffectually against her mouth. He keeps hold of her upper arms. No cars are coming.

"You're so embarrassed!" she yells at him, triumphant and pleased and _ha_—so what if he was Mr. Mysterious Feelings, now she knew _exactly_ how to break him down, so she could catch him off guard whenever she wanted, and—!

Sasayan kisses her. He dives in for it. She doesn't have any time to prepare and her eyes are still open and then she falls over backwards and now _he's_ the one leaning over her, and without thinking she reaches up and gives his shirt a tug, and he follows her down, but not _quite_—he's still propped up on one elbow—but his hand creeps around her neck and into her hair. She likes that.

What she likes even more is that when they do break apart, she looks into his face after kissing him and realizes that for half a second, she can see everything.

* * *

**CLOSING NOTE**: I'm sure you're all wondering how I'm going to come up with enough conflict to keep this thing going for another six chapters. Don't worry. Tee hee.


	4. How to Keep

**ENTITLED**: I'd Rather Pretend  
**FANDOM**: Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun  
**NOTE**: Oh my god. I am honestly embarrassed that it took me so long to update this. I mean, I _am_ super busy, but still. STILL. Uber muy gomen nasai, mon chers.  
**DEDICATION**: This chapter was written because _skinnyburrito_ correctly told me to get off my lazy ass and write it! Well, they phrased it much more nicely than that. Regardless: thank _skinnyburrito_, as I thank them. _Also_. You guys can yell at me to do stuff whenever you want, because honestly, I space stuff all the time. I am the embodiment of every bad stereotype about blonde girls. Or at least like eighty percent of them. Yeah. I'll own that.  
**RAMBLING**: Can I just say that sometimes I think it's really, really funny that someone like me writes fanfiction for semi-obscure shoujo anime? Trust me, it is. One time I actually flat out confessed my addiction to a group of my friends. Their reactions were, "Your hair is so shiny. What's fanfiction?", "We're playing beer pong, why are you taking your clothes off?", and "Sometimes I think you have multiple personalities."  
**LENGTH**: 4/9

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR; How to Keep**

"_Nobody belongs to us, except in memory."_

—John Updike

* * *

It's a good thing Natsume is so mature and totally capable of handling herself in an extremely loosely defined relationship.

"You aren't in a relationship at all," Shizuku says, completely dead-pan, and goes back to her leisure-reading which, Natsume's sure, is probably about trajectory arcs or something. "If Sasayan starts hanging around another girl, you can't get mad at him."

"_What_?" Natsume's mouth drops open. She is equal parts impressed and scandalized. Who knew her Mitty could be so open-minded!

Shizuku mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like _simpleton_, and then elaborates, "You said you were just casually dating. That doesn't mean a relationship. It means you go on dates. It's a slightly more official form of 'hanging out'. There aren't any rules about only dating one person at a time, unless you _specifically said so_."

Natsume can only gape as her friend looks up from her reading and says, in her most haughty voice, "Come on Natsume, don't you read?"

Natsume reflects that it is a shame that Yamaken isn't here to see this. And then she reasons that actually, Yamaken should probably only be exposed to so much excitement at one time, and given Shizuku's unexpectedly pragmatic ideas about romance and—WHAT IS THAT BOOK, ANYWAY?

"Mitty!" Natsume gasps, her eyes glued to the spine of Shizuku's book, reading and re-reading the novel's title. "Mitty, that stuff is super hardcore! I've heard of that author on the internet!" Natsume blushes a little, recalling some of the…_ideas_…the author in question was famous for.

Shizuku barely blinks. "Really? I would have thought he could have come up with something a little more imaginative for the usage of nipple clamps." There is an almost undetectable note of irritation running under the current of her words, and Natsume actually thinks, for a moment, that she is going to faint.

Nipple clamps.

What were—well, of _course_, she could guess what they _were_ but _why_—? Were those for boys or for girls or—what did they even _look_ like?!

Shizuku, seeing Natsume's horrified expression, makes some misplaced attempts at comfort. "I don't really think Sasahara-kun is going to fool around with other girls. He's liked you for ages. I was just saying."

"What?" Natsume mumbles, still distracted by trying to picture what a nipple clamp might look like. As she processes what Shizuku has said, she briefly tries to imagine Sasayan with a girl other than herself, and then immediately dismisses the idea as ludicrous and returns her attention to sex toys/contemporary torture devices. "Mitty, have you ever—"

She is absolutely, hugely underprepared to ask this question. Natsume stares at her best friend with her lips clamped tightly over her teeth, her knees pressed together, and her whole body quivering. She wills herself to speak. Her best attempt is a strangled cheeping noise.

"What?" Shizuku has half an eye back on her book. "Oh, the nipple clamp thing? I've never tried it. It sounds painful." She thinks for a moment, and even taps one finger against her lip. "Maybe…Haru might—his birthday is pretty far away, so—"

Were Natsume still capable of producing any sort of noise, she might have screamed. And yet, a little part of her brain whispers, _Shouldn't she have expected this?_ Haru and Shizuku had been together for almost two years, after all, and Shizuku had always been very practical, very level-headed. This sort of thing was natural. Expected, even!

And then Natsume begins to understand the nature of Sasayan's trap.

"He's cooking me like a frog!" she cries, and turns wildly to Shizuku, who is now frowning slightly.

"I think you've made up an idiom."

"Because! If you put a frog in cool water and then slowly turn up the heat, the frog won't notice! It just sits there until it's cooked and _dead_!"

Shizuku sighs. She turns a page.

"Stop doing your weird sex research and listen to me!" Natsume yelps, and then admits to herself she's on her own, and that Shizuku is probably the worst confidant ever.

* * *

The night before school resumes, Natsume braces herself for the worst. She isn't sure she's ready to face all her distraught ex-suitors, much less Sasayan himself. How were you supposed to act, in that sort of setting? The obvious answer, she reasoned, was to appear slightly less emotionally invested than he was, at any given time. Yeah. She could handle that. And maybe it would even make things easier with other boys! Sasayan was pretty popular, after all. It would be hard for them to approach her, knowing that she was now attached to one of their friends. They had a male code to uphold, after all.

Satisfied, Natsume goes to bed feeling that the situation was completely under control.

* * *

The next morning, three boys proposition her before she's even made it to her classroom, and Natsume realizes that Sasayan hasn't told anyone. The idea sort of offends her, though she can't really explain why. She'd thought he'd have invited the school over for a victory party.

Even more aggravating was when she actually did run into him at the shoe lockers, and he was as surrounded by his friends as ever, and so only waved hello. Natsume watches him over the shoulder of the boy who is declaring his love for her, and almost considers accepting just to watch Sasayan's reaction, except that she kind of doesn't know this guy's name and has never spoken to him before now. She rejects him a little more slowly than she would have done normally. Sasayan does not appear to notice that anything has happened.

Natsume shuffles to class, feeling moody. Ooshima, whose desk is right next to Natsume's, offers a very nervous hello when Natsume clomps into homeroom.

"Good break?" Ooshima asks, just as Sasayan and a group of boys he had probably befriended five seconds ago enter the room. Natsume glowers.

"It was fine. Nothing important happened," she growls. Ooshima looks over at Sasayan, back to Natsume, and then visibly gives up.

* * *

Roughly five minutes after school has ended, Natsume grudgingly admits to herself that Mitty had been right, dating is not a big deal, and Sasayan is an idiot. Natsume gives up on him completely and has already stomped halfway across the schoolyard when That Idiot pops out of nowhere and catches her by the elbow. "Hey," Sasayan says, with a bright grin. "Let's go somewhere."

Natsume chokes, and comes to a halt. Other students continue around them. A couple of them glance back. She wonders if they'd heard.

"_What_?!" she splutters. He still hasn't let go of her elbow. She can't tell if he even notices that there are other people around them, when he looks at her like that.

"Well, you know. I haven't seen you all day." He shrugs. He lets her go. She can't decide if this is a good thing or not.

Natsume remembers the nipple clamps, and also that she is supposed to be acting unconcerned with his existence. So torn between suspicion and aloofness, she ultimately settles on general defensiveness. "_What kind of place are we going_?" she asks, and somehow manages to say at about the same time, "I am extremely busy."

"I was thinking coffee. That's where you're supposed to go for first dates."

"We get coffee all the time!" Natsume yelps, mostly because she's embarrassed by the word "dates", and that he'd said it, and that people had heard, and also that he's a boy.

Sasayan just looks at her. "It's symbolic."

"Well." Natsume blanks out. She stares at him. "I'm not dressed right!" she remembers, and then also, "Wait. I'm extremely busy."

"You are such a liar," Sasayan snorts, and Natsume tries to remember why she had agreed to date someone who looked exasperated ninety percent of the time they were together. She resolves to end things with him quickly, but then he starts walking towards the gate and for some reason she trots after him.

"Are you going to pay for me?" she asks, not because she wants him too, but because no one has ever done that for her before.

Sasayan scrunches up his face. "I think I'm supposed to for like the first three to five times."

"You know a lot about this," Natsume notes, and wonders if everyone in the world is doing sneaky sex research except for her. She tries to imagine Sasayan acting out some of the stuff she'd seen in shoujo manga and is instantly horrified. She eyeballs him with great subtlety. He'd gotten a little taller since their freshman year, but was still lanky and small, and most likely unsuited to battling hoards of demons set on devouring her life force/virginity. The idea is extremely concerning. Natsume hopes that if it ever comes to that, he will not be an idiot and just ask Haru for help.

"Yeah, well." Sasayan shrugs, and looks over his shoulder. They've made it about three blocks away from the school now and so she turns to look too, because she can't imagine what he's seen and the street is empty. She opens her mouth to ask him what's up, but then Sasayan takes her hand like it's no big deal, and tugs her along, and she gets it. Her face burns, and she squeezes his hand without meaning too, and that just makes her all the more embarrassed. The overwhelming desire to kiss him builds and pushes against her chest. She ignores it. Sasayan pokes her still burning cheek.

"Stop it."

"You're cute." He sounds incredibly smug about something. Natsume bristles, and her free hand balls up at her side.

"Don't look at me!" she yells, and seethes happily for the rest of the walk. She wonders, abruptly, if he'd left his bike behind just so he could hold her hand like this. He was pretty sneaky, after all. Natsume considers him, and he looks over at her, with his eyebrows raised.

"Why are you glaring at me?"

"You have _three_ older brothers?" Natsume asks, suspicion dripping from every word. Sasayan keeps his eyebrows up. He has a bandage over one of them, along the edge of his hairline at his temple. Natsume can't decide if it looks stupid or kind of dashing. She wants to ask him how he got it, but doesn't want him to think that she cares. Although she also kind of does.

"Yeah, I do. They're all in their twenties. I guess I don't talk about them much, huh?"

"Would you say that they're lady-killers?" Natsume asks, and watches him closely for some physical manifestation of guilt. Sasayan snorts. He delights himself with sniggering for a couple of seconds.

"_What_?"

"You heard me!"

"They're totally normal."

Natsume is not convinced. "But, they've all had girlfriends?"

"Well, sure, I mean, they've all had a few—they think _I'm_ the weird one, honestly—"

Natsume's eyes become slits. It is clear to her now that Sasayan has a whole board of advisors backing him. She feels coldly triumphant. _Cooking her like a frog._

* * *

Her thesis is derailed slightly, as their first date turns out to be more of a study session with coffee. He does not, at any point, kiss her. Their second, third, and seventh dates are similar. Sometimes he holds her hand. Natsume begins to suspect that she has been deeply mistaken about something, but is unable to identify what, exactly.

"Does he not know what dating _is_?" she demands during lunch break, and slams her little fist down onto her school desk, but does so quietly enough to not attract attention from That Idiot sitting on the other side of the classroom. Poor Ooshima does a valiant job of not looking incredibly sorry for herself.

"I-I'm sure he just doesn't want to pressure you…"

"It's been THREE WEEKS!" Natsume hisses. Ooshima hands her a rice ball. Natsume stuffs the whole thing into her mouth, daintiness be damned.

"Does he just not _want_ to kiss me?" she wonders, and looks towards Ooshima, expression intent. Ooshima, Natsume had recently discovered, has a considerably higher patience threshold than Shizuku, who had recently begun confusing Natsume's name with "blithering moron".

Ooshima turns scarlet. "I-I mean…well, have you before? Maybe he's just shy—"

"WE HAVE!" Natsume screeches. Ooshima sacrifices another rice ball.

Natsume chews, and thinks.

* * *

After another week of uncertainty, Natsume goes home, throws herself into bed and stares bitterly at the ceiling. She has no idea why she feels so frustrated, only that she can't think of anything else. She pulls out her cell, opens up Sasayan's contact information, and stares furiously at his phone number. "You're supposed to be crazy about me!" she yells indignantly at the screen, and then calls Shizuku, who answers immediately after the first ring.

"I can't help you with your homework tonight, Takaya and I are playing geography trivia and cleaning out our storage." She sounds breathless with happiness. Natsume feels sorry for Takaya.

"Does Sasayan not like me anymore?" Natsume asks, and tries to imagine what will happen if Shizuku tells her that she's right. It wasn't like she and Sasayan wouldn't be friends anymore, right? That would be okay. It wasn't like he'd walk out of her life. Honestly, Shizuku was right, dating was basically the same as hanging out with someone—he'd probably still get coffee with her, and cart her around, and call her out on being selfish or panicky or whatever her flaw of the week was. It would be okay.

"Please don't ask me stupid questions. It's depressing," Shizuku says flatly, and hangs up.

Natsume stares at her phone, the dial tone filling up her head.

It would absolutely not be okay.

She feels incredibly brave, suddenly, and calling him has always been easy, so long as she doesn't think about it too much. Natsume resolves not to think. While she listens to his phone ring, she makes several very serious promises to herself not to self-sabotage, and has done a pretty good job of freaking herself out by the time Sasayan finally answers the phone.

"What's up?"

"Hi," she squeaks, and is instantly mortified. She tries again, "Hi," and sounds a little more composed but hates herself for saying it again, for acknowledging her first attempt as an error, for—she's thinking too much again. Speaking very quickly, before she can reason her way out of action, Natsume blurts, "I know you're probably busy but can I see you?"

"Right now?"

She can't stand herself. The urge to jump out of her skin bites at her, and Natsume leaps to her feet, and begins to pace. The movement helps, somehow. "Yeah, um, right now. My house is empty. I want to talk to you about something."

"Oh," he says, and sounds very casual, but she kind of—she _knows_ him now, she knows what he sounds like, when he doesn't want to seem afraid.

"It's not that bad," she says, although she isn't sure if that's true, if she's going to panic and say all the wrong things again. "I just—"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a bit."

"Oh," Natsume stops, one foot still stretched halfway forwards, into the open space ahead of her, "Oh, yeah. Okay."

After she hangs up, she launches herself back onto her bed, and almost vibrates, and freaks out in every way imaginable, though she tries her best not to. She wonders if she and Sasayan are destined to have the same fight over, and over, and over again, and if maybe she should tell him to stop seeing her, for his own good. She wonders if she makes him as uneasy as she makes herself, if that's the reason why he doesn't ever kiss her, if maybe he'd realized that she was as exhausting as she had always warned him she was.

Natsume seizes her pillow, and squishes it over her face, and tells herself to _shut up, shut up, shut up_, until she feels dizzy. She sits up, and her head spins, and the doorbell rings, and when she opens the door Sasayan is panting a little.

"What's wrong?" he asks, and without meaning to, she throws her arms around his neck and almost bursts into tears, but doesn't, because she remembers now that he will never lie to her.

Sasayan shuffles her inside so he can shut the door, and pats her hair, and says, "Okay."

"I thought you liked me but you don't ever kiss me, so now I'm not sure, and also I feel like you have some master plan but maybe I just made that up and basically, I don't know," Natsume says into his neck. She distantly decides that Sasayan's neck is quickly becoming her greatest confidant. It is somehow easier to tell him things when she knows he can't see her while she says them.

"I still like you," Sasayan says quietly. He probably looks exasperated again. Natsume braces herself, and then pulls back to check. His face is very serious. Her heart skips a beat.

"Oh," she says, and just stares at him while her face heats up, and she thinks for a second that when he's focused on something, he doesn't really look like a boy anymore. It makes her nervous, in a fluttery sort of way.

He touches her face, with his thumb at the corner of her mouth, and then he leans in and kisses her, deliberately, nothing like the rushed, impulsive kisses she had given him before. He kisses her with purpose, with _intention_, and before she even knows what's happening Natsume realizes that he's backed her up into the wall and, when her eyes are closed, his shoulders feel hard and wide when she grips them, and one of his hands trails down her side and his fingers skim, questioning, at the edge of her shirt, and then his whole hand slides up to hold her waist. She shivers. He pulls away and she thinks that it's over, but she's scarcely opened her eyes before he ducks and puts his mouth on her neck, and she doesn't mean to but she _squeaks_.

Sasayan freezes.

He pulls back and looks at her with huge, sheepish eyes, and says, "Um, sorry." As an afterthought, he pulls his hand back from her stomach. Her skin feels cold. She can't remember ever seeing him look so uncomfortable.

"I liked it," she blurts out, partially because it's true and partially because she hates seeing him look so nervous. Immediately after she says it, she wants to melt into the floor and never talk to him again.

Obviously, she proceeds to say the one thing that could incriminate her even further, "I like you too."

Sasayan makes a strangled little noise, and turns away a little to hide his face behind his shoulder. "You're killing me."

"I think," Natsume says, even though she doesn't know what she's saying anymore, because her brain is finally off, and now she can only speak the truth, "I think I want us to do the other kind of dating."

"What does that even mean?"

"I mean the not casual kind." Natsume mumbles. He feels too far away. She chases after him and tells his neck, "I mean, can we maybe go out?"

"_Stop_," Sasayan groans, and puts his arms around her. Natsume wriggles. She senses instinctively that his grip is a restraining one, that he doesn't want her to be able to see him, and she therefore desperately wants to look at him. "Hold still," Sasayan grumbles.

"Why don't you kiss me like that more often?" Natsume demands, while she struggles towards her freedom without much success. His cheek feels very hot against her forehead. She feels resentful that he always denies her these victories.

"I don't know, I guess I thought you would freak out."

"I would not!" Natsume protests, though with very little assurance behind her words. She thinks for a second and then asks, "Was _this_ your master plan?"

"What?"

"Cooking me like a frog!"

"_What_?"

"I'm on to you," she tells him triumphantly. Something in her stomach feels like it's settled into place, like the wait is finally over.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Natsume feels slightly annoyed at having to explain Sasayan's own master plan to him. "You snuck up on me by degrees so that I would get used to you and not freak out like I usually do and eventually talk myself into making the first move." She thinks that Sasayan's grip is a little looser than before. Any second now, she will burst free. Any second.

"That isn't really a master plan so much as it is an _extremely obvious strategy_." As he speaks, his fingertips run up and down her spine. It a lovely feeling, but she's still going to escape.

"Are we an item now or what?" Natsume demands, because she knows he must say yes, he _has_ to. She wants him to.

He hesitates for what she thinks is far too long, then finally asks, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Natsume says firmly.

"So, you're okay with me holding your hand in public? Introducing you to my family? Telling people 'Hey, this is my girlfriend'?"

Natsume freezes all over. She grits her teeth, and her hands clench around fistfuls of his shirt. No way is he scaring her out of this. No way is she letting him think that he's got her all figured out, that he can make her back off without even trying, that she will always be a victim of herself.

"Can I call you Souhei?" she asks, in as innocent a voice as she can manage, and isn't all that surprised when he kisses her again.

* * *

**CLOSING NOTE**: Wrote the ending in a coffee shop. You know I was that gross kid in the corner cackling over her laptop while the nice old ladies one table over discussed their grandchildren and their cats. Classy.


	5. Improve Upon the Silence

**ENTITLED**: I'd Rather Pretend  
**FANDOM**: Tonari no Kaibutsu-kun  
**DISCLAIMER**: If the manga seriously ends without any sort of resolution for Natsume/Sasayan, I'm going to pretend this is canon.  
**NOTE**: As always, thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm actually pretty new to this kind of story so I _love_ getting feedback! Help me be well-rounded! I'm actually working on my first novel right now, so any tips you guys wanna drop on me is seriously appreciated. I love criticism. I _thrive_ on criticism. Praise and virtual cookies are good too. Also, is everyone impressed with how quickly I updated this time? Because I sure am. Good job, self.  
**LENGTH**: 5/9

* * *

**CHAPTER FIVE; Improve Upon the Silence**

_The most important thing to remember is this: to be ready at any moment to give up what you are for what you might become. _

—W.E.B. Du Bois

* * *

The next morning, Natsume is not prepared.

She steps out the front door and immediately gets stuck on her doorstep, eyes narrowed and fists balled, and her nose stings a little from the cool morning air but most of all from _the smell of an ambush_.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses, accusingly. Sasayan, arms braced against the low wall running around the front of her yard, just grins at her.

"Walking my girlfriend to school," he says, with just a trace of gloating in his voice. Natsume almost runs back inside. After he'd left last night, she'd spent a good hour running around the house with absolutely no destination, turning the word "girlfriend" over in her mind.

"I've made a terrible mistake," she announces, and is horrified when Sasayan does not so much as blink.

"We're going to be late," he calls.

"I appreciate everything you have done for me over the years." Natsume thinks this is a pretty good lead-up to the bad news with will undoubtedly emotionally cripple him for the rest of his life.

"I'm ignoring you," Sasayan explains politely. She stares at him.

"You can't ignore me."

Sasayan tilts his head to the side, and smiles. "Hey, why don't you come over here?"

Natsume backs into the door. "_Why, what are you going to do_?"

She finally leaves her house once he points out to her how absurd she's being, and what does she expect, huh? Natsume does not dignify this with an answer. She also does not even begin to consider the multitude of activities Sasayan could "threaten" to do to her. That would be wrong. So wrong. _What is the matter with her?_

A potential hiccup occurs to her while they are en route. She clears her throat. "I am extremely cute and it is inevitable that other boys will like me but if you get all weird and jealous I will be troubled."

"You have such a great personality," Sasayan says, his tone mild. Natsume bristles.

"W-Well it's true! It'll probably happen and I don't want you getting upset!"

Sasayan grabs her hand, and reassures, "I won't get upset."

Natsume does not believe him at all. He'd _better_ get upset. She suddenly recalls her abandoned need to put some distance between them. For a moment she flusters over how to go about it—how she's supposed to worm her way around Sasayan's newest tactic of flagrantly ignoring everything he doesn't want to hear—but then she swallows, and tells herself to calm down. She thinks very carefully about what to say, and in her head, none of it sounds right.

Her head nods to the side. Sasayan had tugged on her hair. "Why're you scowling?" he asks, and she realizes that her hand is being held very tightly.

She tries to identify the exact source of the problem, and after a moment confesses, "I don't really…like the word "girlfriend." Or, it just, it makes me feel—I don't know."

Natsume tenses, brings her shoulders up, and fully expects him to be hurt, to wonder if she was trying to pull away, but all he does is shrug, and say, "Okay, I won't use it."

Natsume's chest tightens. She waits for the fall-out that doesn't come. Tentatively, she asks, "It's okay?"

Sasayan stops walking two blocks away from their school and just before they turn the corner onto the route that the other students take. She wonders why they're stopping, just out of view like this. He looks her straight in the eye, which always makes her nervous, but she does her best to look back. "I just want to be sure," he says, "Nothing else changes, right? Just don't use that word?"

This is when she kills it, Natsume vows. This is when she drags them back to square one. It was funny, for someone so guarded; Sasayan sure left himself open to her and all her defensive cruelties. Natsume grits her teeth. Mentally, she slaps herself.

"Nothing else," she says, and gets up on her toes because she wants to kiss him, to make sure he knew and she knew and everything would be okay but then she remembers that this is a _public area_ and there are _people_ and so she freezes, maybe an inch away from his face, then stumbles back with her hands clapped over her cheeks. "S-sorry!" she squeaks.

Sasayan tucks his hands in his pockets, and huffs out a little laugh. He looks very shy, she thinks, but doesn't understand why. He bites his lower lip as he watches her, and she suddenly thinks he's handsome. Not that she had thought he was ugly or anything, she just—hadn't thought about it. _Handsome_ was a word that she used for _men_, who were powerful and sophisticated and smart and wore suits to work.

The first bell rings, and some distant part of Natsume notes that it is an extremely odd and inconvenient time for her to be having these sorts of revelations.

Sasayan takes a step backwards, and it takes her a long time to realize he's prompting her to follow him. As they walk up to the gates, Sasayan mumbles, "I'm sorry that I skipped ahead on things."

"You didn't, I'm just weird," Natsume admits. She still feels unsettled though, and she wonders why he isn't holding her hand anymore. She almost reaches out to grab his sleeve, then realizes how sweetly his ears curve, feels shy, and so does nothing.

* * *

At school, Natsume is determined to drop the bomb. She tells everything to Ooshima before first period, and then realizes halfway through her history quiz that she had _first revealed important romance-related information to a female other than her best friend!_

After authoring her test paper with her fitting new title, "swine", Natsume remembers that Shizuku would probably not be amused as to the reason for Natsume's retake and senseless grade-destruction. Natsume writes her name properly, and continues mentally self-abuse.

As soon as lunch break has begun, she begins to right her terrible wrong.

"Sasayan and I are dating but in the serious way and I accidentally told Ooshima first _I'm sorry_!"

"Why did you have to take me to the roof to tell me this?" Shizuku frowns, and goes back down into the school building. Natsume, tears in her eyes, accepts this as her fitting punishment.

Back in the classroom, she commands Ooshima, "Forget everything I told you this morning."

Ooshima looks alarmed, and sneaks a glance over her shoulder to where Sasayan and his friends are chatting. "Did something happen?" she asks quietly, her voice full of tender concern.

"Just forget it!"

"O-Okay!" Ooshima squeaks, and Natsume joins her in blushing when she realizes that she's been too loud, and Sasayan's looking at her with his eyebrows up.

She slinks back in her seat. "You really forgot?"

"Erm." It could not be possible for Ooshima to look more confused. "Yes?"

Natsume nods slowly, and then proceeds to retell Ooshima her news from the morning. Behind her spectacles, Ooshima looks slightly dizzy.

The more public declaration, however, doesn't happen for several more days, when Natsume rejects a suitor by saying, with great satisfaction, "I'm sorry, but I'm already seeing someone."

The suitor doesn't believe her. "_Who_?"

"Sasahara," Natsume says, and thinks that Sasayan's last name is something of a false advertisement. It makes him sound like a cool senpai, who was just the right level of aloof and could afford to buy her obscenely expensive presents for no particular reason, and with great frequency.

Following her declaration, there is a sort of domino-effect of "WHAT?"s around the school. By the time she has left her suitor and made her way to the bike racks to where Sasayan was waiting, he already has cause to greet her with a slightly accusatory, "Five people just asked me if we were dating."

Natsume smiles her best smile, and a week later, she takes him home to meet her family.

* * *

"He's short," her father observes. Sasayan looks pained.

"_Papa_," Natsume growls, and then says (very loyally), "He's the shortstop on our school's baseball team."

Natsume's father, whose appreciation of baseball bordered on the maniacal, merely grunts. His wife pokes her head around the doorway to the kitchen and observes, "Oh, so you're the one Natsume always gets a ride with? Sorry about that. You can just tell her to walk. She must be _awfully_ heavy."

Natsume cannot recall the last time she felt so betrayed. "_Mom_."

"I guess you can't do anything about your height," Natsume's father concedes at last, and then bends over the kitchen table, one arm extended, his elbow braced against the edge. "Get over here and we'll see how strong you are."

The thought of Sasayan arm-wrestling with her father actually horrifies Natsume to the point of tears. "Papa, _stop_ it!"

Sasayan, who had initially laughed at her father's antics, abruptly stops, and starts rolling up his sleeves, his expression grim. Natsume gapes at him, and then grapples for his arm, squealing, "Are you _crazy_?"

"Oh, whatever," her mother mutters, apparently deciding to have no part in the ensuing spectacle. She vanishes back into the kitchen, but calls over her shoulder, "Let him have his fun, Asako, your father's been planning this for years."

"You have got to be kidding me," Natsume says, at no one more specific than the universe at large. She watches as Sasayan and her father clasp hands, and immediately suffers from acute second-hand embarrassment. She frets over the ensuing struggle for a few minutes, and then helps set out the plates. She and her mother sit down. They watch the men strain for a moment.

"Oh my _god_," Natsume's mother says disdainfully, "He's half your size!"

"He keeps cheating!"

"I am not," Sasayan says through his teeth. Several seconds too late, he adds, "Sir."

Natsume covers her face with her hands. The whole thing is so stupidly chauvinistic she has to consider impaling herself with her chopsticks. Everything is ruined. She should probably break up with Sasayan and disown herself from her family based solely on the principal of the matter. She tries to imagine what Shizuku would do in this situation and remembers that Shizuku would never tolerate being placed in the vicinity of such a scenario.

"The soup is getting cold," Natsume's mother says. "I'm eating your food," she threatens.

"Please knock it off," Natsume orders, in her strictest voice, "I'm staying with him no matter who wins." She tries very hard not to blush as she makes this announcement, and fails spectacularly. Only her mother notices. An eyebrow is duly raised.

"_I'm not losing_," Sasayan hisses.

Her father abruptly slackens his grip, and jerks away before his hand can hit the table. "Well, good! You pass. You'll need that sort of an attitude, hanging around my daughter!"

He laughs proudly. Natsume glares at everyone. Sasayan smiles a little. Natsume's mother takes a haughty sip from her soup bowl and notes, "Good job getting out of that one."

* * *

She ends up walking Sasayan halfway home just because she feels so bad about her parents and their ongoing crusade to ruin her life, and also because she hadn't actually told him what they were doing at her house.

"I would have worn a better shirt," he says, for maybe the fifth time. Natsume puffs out her cheeks.

"You looked fine."

"I'm getting you back for this."

"For _what_! I was more embarrassed than you were!"

* * *

Muffin is still a huge bitch.

Sasayan's cat prowls the doorway to his apartment, mixing her way around Natsume's ankles and otherwise doing her best to trip and kill her owner's new significant other. In some small way, Natsume is comforted. She feels vaguely certain that Sasayan's mother cannot be as bad as his stupid cat.

In some ways, she is right. Sasayan's mother is tiny, several inches shorter than Natsume and with all of her son's pointed, alert features. She wears her hair very short, and while it lies a little flatter than Sasayan's, the chocolate-y brown color is the same.

"You must be lucky, if the cat likes you so much," Sasayan's mother says brightly, extending her hand across the kitchen table for Natsume to shake. Natsume does not feel especially lucky, but does not yet feel that Sasayan's mother knows her well enough to forgive the crime of pet slander, and so holds her tongue. The moment Natsume clasps Sasayan's mother's hand in her own, the little woman drags both of them down to the countertop to arm-wrestle.

Natsume stares.

"Well, it seemed only fair," his mother says with a familiar little grin, and lets go. She looks over Natsume's shoulder, and addresses her son, "Hey, Souhei, she's too pretty for you. What're you thinking, you little punk?"

Natsume turns in time to catch Sasayan's expression. He looks incredibly grumpy.

Dinner takes a while to get through, as Sasayan's mother keeps pausing to whip out her phone and text pictures of Natsume to her absent family members. Every single one of Sasayan's brothers congratulate him on "sticking out the war", which makes Natsume a bit testy, but the peaceful atmosphere is largely upheld until a reply comes from Sasayan's father, just as they are nearly done eating. Seeing the incoming message from her husband, Sasayan's mother's whole face lights up, and she snatches her cellphone with obvious glee. "Oh, your father agrees with me," she says cheerfully to Sasayan, who grunts in reply. In the next second, Sasayan's mother turns to Natsume and adds, brightly, "He says welcome to the family."

Sasayan chokes, and ends up coughing water all over his lap. Natsume spends several pleasant seconds imagining herself in a very pretty wedding dress (which she had, of course, picked out twelve years ago) before accidentally expanding her fantasy to include a groom. Her face turns very red.

* * *

The first week of October, he has her over for watermelon.

"What is _wrong_ with the produce in your house?" Natsume asks, while he carves off a large slice. Sasayan just grins, and starts cutting the watermelon into little red hearts for her. Natsume is absolutely not touched. Especially because he ruins the watermelon by nicking his thumb and bleeding all over the place.

"I'm injured!"

"You idiot! Look at your fingers when you're holding a knife!" Natsume wails, and rushes to the bathroom to find a bandage for him. Sasayan trails after her.

"Do you think the blood makes the heart thing more authentic?"

"That's disgusting. Get your finger out of your mouth."

Sasayan, who had been sucking on his cut, merely narrows his eyes at her. Natsume rips off the bandage's wrapper and looks at him expectantly, until he surrenders his hand to her for packaging.

"I feel faint."

"I hope so," Natsume mutters, and glares up at him. "Honestly, be careful."

"Sorry," Sasayan said, but looks so happy that her stomach scrunches up a little, and she means to just peck him on the cheek but then things don't really…go according to plan. The hard, iron taste of blood still lingers on his mouth.

"You ambushed me," Sasayan accuses, but his eyes curve up when he grins, and it hits her with a pang that he isn't going to look like a boy for much longer, that they would never be this young ever again, and that maybe, in the coming future, they wouldn't be able to stay together.

Her lips part and her eyebrows furrow, and she wants to tell him this but doesn't know how, and when she sees him frown too, she realizes that she's gone and ruined the moment, again.

Instinctively, Natsume puts her hand against his chest, and kicks the bathroom door closed even though his mother won't be home for hours. Sasayan's heart was somewhere under her hand, and this is all Natsume can think about, as she tries to decide.

She'd always sort of felt that Sasayan had been the one with more control, when it came to whatever it was they had. Never mind that he was always the one who had to be asking, who had to be caught out wanting. Never mind that she had shut him down, rushed forward and then changed her mind, led the pair of them in circles and doubled back on her decisions. A little part of her had always felt that they were headed to the same destination, and that he knew how to get there. Everything he said, everything he did, worked towards that goal. Sometimes if she pushed hard enough he might give away too much, confess something he might not have otherwise, but it was never _the wrong thing_. He didn't mess up like she did.

But.

She can feel his heart against her hand. It hits hard and fast against his ribs and his eyes are very dark, when she looks, and she does look. She looks at the way his shoulders arc towards her when he knots his hands behind his back, and how hard it makes the lines of his arms. She looks at his eyes, and they say, _I want you. _She thinks that it's not the kind of wanting that a boy does. She thinks he's very handsome. She thinks, _I want you, too_, and knows it's true even if she doesn't quite know what that means.

But she _does_ know why he's got his hands behind his back. She _does_ know that he will never, ever touch her unless she tells him to, unless she starts it. She _does_ know that he's afraid of messing up, of being hurt, of hurting her. She knows that he's in love with her.

And now, she knows what that means. If there's one thing Natsume's got on Sasayan, it's the passion that sparks decisive action, because she has never learned how to feel with anything less than her entire heart.

Natsume reaches for the top button of her shirt. She wants to look him in the eye but it's _hard_, and it isn't until she's halfway down her sternum that she works up the nerve to do so. She peeks up, and the expression on his face makes her feel powerful. Her pulse doesn't slow but it steadies. She stands silent for a full ten seconds with her open shirt draped loosely over her and then she says, "Why don't you take this off for me?"

Maybe she'd sounded too goading, because Sasayan gets squinty, and then visibly decides this is a fight he'd rather not have. He moves forward a little and his hands come up, and slip along her collarbones to her shoulders. His fingertips trail down her bare arms while she gazes at him, wordless, and he looks just slightly down. He eases her sleeves over her hands and then stops, as her shirt collapses to the floor.

"Have you done this before?" Natsume whispers, though she doesn't know why. Sasayan grins an embarrassed little grin.

"No. You?"

"Obviously not!" Natsume snips. He pulls a face at her. She thinks she would like a little more reverence, _okay?_, even if she does still have her bra on and he has seen her in bikini so none of this is exactly new territory, still. _Still_.

She folds her arms and jerks her chin at him. "You, too."

She plots as he obeys, eyeing his chest. She decides that she likes his torso. It's very streamlined. She tests her hypothesis by getting closer while his shirt is up covering his face, wrapping her arms around his neck, and sliding upwards. Her theory is supported. His skin is very smooth.

When his face reappears, looking nothing less then dazed, she kisses him very, very hard, and then jerks back because he isn't _touching_ her and that is a _problem_ and would he _please get on the same page as her_?

Natsume starts to growl this sentiment at him, but then he pushes the hair back from her face, and something in her stomach goes melty. It gets even worse when he puts his mouth against her brow, not so much kissing it as he was tracing it with his lips, over to her hairline, and ear, and jaw, and throat. He does all of this in utter silence. She cannot even hear him breath. His hands rest very carefully on her hipbones, and she clutches at his wrists, because he has always been her anchor, and she doesn't understand why she's shaking.

The hard, mean thing goes trailing out of her, and with it, the residue of a fear she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, she feels ashamed. Not of her body, but of how she'd used it. For _power_? What kind of game did she think he was playing, anyway?

"Why do you even like me?" she whispers, because she knows now that no amount of pretty could never completely hide all of her flaws.

"I like a lot of things about you," he mutters, sounding abashed. She lets go of his wrists so she can hide in his neck, her hands fists against his back. His shoulder blades flatten under her hands when he returns the embrace. She wants to blow apart and she wants for him to say the one thing that will keep her together. He does. He turns his head into her hair, and tells her.

"I love you, because you're brave."

* * *

**CLOSING NOTE**: Self! I said not until chapter seven! WAIT UNTIL CHAPTER SEVEN! I feel like I am, at once, the horny teenager and the well-intentioned advocate of abstinence.


End file.
